The Rest of the Story

So, as you may have assumed by now, I have returned from my trip.  When last I wrote, I was sitting in my hotel room in Tamuning, Guam, ready and excited to board United flight 155 bound for the beautiful island of Pohnpei, Micronesia. Well, a lot happened after that, and I've delayed writing about that adventure for one reason or another. Until now. So, bear with me.

The great blessing that allows me to travel so expansively can also be a curse. I fly as a stand-by passenger, meaning that I am only given a seat on a plane if there is an open seat to give. On Alaska Airlines, I am entitled to a seat before employees of other airlines because I work for Alaska. On other airlines, my priority drops. And no matter what, paying passengers are always entitled to their seats more than I am.

On Friday morning (after my last post), I woke up early, returned my rental car at the airport, and made my way to the gate to fly to Chuuk, and on to Pohnpei. I never got on the flight. While it appeared to be an open flight with 20 un-occupied seats, it was in-fact a "full" flight. United cannot sell those final 20 seats due to the heavy amount of fuel they must carry to make the trek through Micronesia (a fact I should have considered given my line of work). There weren't any seats to be given to stand-by passengers, and there were 18 United Airlines stand-bys in-front of me anyways (hello last priority!), so I could not fly.  Seeing as the next flight to Pohnpei would not leave for 2 days, there would be no trip to the island on this trip. Such a disappointment.

My back-up plan was to fly to another Pacific paradise, my home for 6 months in 2009-10: the wonderful island nation of Palau (I know, not a bad “back-up plan” or consolation prize).  The flight to Palau would not leave until the evening, so I had the rest of the day to kill on Guam.  I mostly hung out around the airport, but I managed to wander down to the K-Mart on Marine Corps Drive and shop/people-watch.  When evening came I returned to the airport and sat next to the gate, waiting to hear my name called and board the flight to Palau. My name was never called. Once again, I did not have a seat, and United did not have one to give to me. As (bad) luck would have it, the flight to Palau the night before had been cancelled, and my flight had been unexpectedly filled in the final 24 hours. There would be no trip to Palau on this trip either.

 
As you can imagine, I was pretty bummed at that point. I had flown half-way around the globe to visit the islands I once lived on, yet I could not make it to the two I had most wanted to see again. However, I was determined to go somewhere, anywhere, over the remaining days of my journey.  One of the benefits of stand-by travel is the ability to go pretty much anywhere. As I came to terms with having to wait for another trip to Micronesia one day, I opened-up a map and asked myself, “Where in the world do I want to go? Where can I get to easily in the next day? Where can I go that I can leave from in time to return to work by Tuesday?” Given my options, and my proximity to Asia, I settled upon Seoul, South Korea.

The next morning I returned to the airport, and finally heard my name called. The flight from Guam to Seoul was a quick 4 ½ hours. About an hour outside Seoul we flew over southern Japan, and I became lost in tracing the railroad lines as they weaved in and out of the hills and mountains of Kyushu. We landed in Seoul in a thick fog, which obscured my view out the window until just before touchdown. Once I could see it, the ground was mostly brown and gray, but splattered with patches of green, yellow, and orange. It was quite surreal. I had always pictured Korea being a patchwork of grays and browns (I don’t know why. Maybe I kept that image from old Korean War films.).

I boarded the express train from Incheon airport (Sidenote: WOW! What an airport!), and arrived at Seoul Station downtown 40 minutes later. The station was a sea of people, each jostling and pushing to make it to their next train. Although everything was in Korean, and I did not know any Korean, all of the important signs were also in English. After grabbing a baguette at a Parisian bakery in the station (I know, how very Korean of me), I hopped aboard the #4 metro line and traveled to Gangnam and my hotel to check-in. The man at the front desk noticed my Dallas Cowboys shirt and told me the Boys were his favorite team growing up. He was raised in Ohio but moved home to Korea as a teenager. And he didn’t want to be a Browns fan, which I totally understand.

After checking in and dropping off my bags, I returned to Seoul Station to find food and explore the heart of the city.  In the back corner of the station, on the top floor, I saw a sign pointing to a food court. The food court was made up of nameless, numbered stalls. A large sign at the entrance had pictures of each dish offered at each stall, along with descriptions in Korean and English.  All of the food was Korean, and I was the only white guy in sight. I decided this would be my dinner appointment for the night. I ordered a noodle dish from the cashier, waited for my number to flash on the sign above stall #7, and then sat down and ate with a view of downtown Seoul.

I wandered around Seoul the rest of the evening. I walked past one of the national symbols of Korea, the famous Sungnyemun Gate. I strolled down brightly-lit alleys with stand after stand of merchants eager to make a buck on Saturday night. I was amazed at the number of stalls selling dog clothes! One particular alley/street gave way to a massive, elegant, ritzy shopping center. Prada, Armani, and Rolex were lit up in bright lights as valets rushed to pick up Lexus, Jaguar, and other luxury cars.  The street merchants and malls seemed to go on and on. Christmas lights were up on many of the store-fronts and hotel entrances. There were people everywhere. I felt very-much like I was in Asia.

Before returning to my hotel I stopped by the old royal palace by city hall. For all the chaos outside the palace walls, the interior felt like a world apart. The pathways inside the wall were lined with slumping trees. Fallen leaves covered every inch of grass and dirt. The only lights inside the walls were those illuminating the historic buildings. It was so peaceful and foreign. I truly enjoyed Deoksugung Palace.

I woke up in the morning, tuned into the BYU football game on my phone (It was weird listening to BYU football on Sunday! We were already leading 51-0 when I woke up.), and got on the metro. I got off outside of Seoul Forest park, and on the advice of a friend (Hi Rebekah!), went inside. The park was almost entirely empty, aside from the stray jogger and deer. Again, the city seemed to be a very somber yet peaceful mix of browns, grays, greens, and oranges. It was a very relaxing morning. I walked through the park, along the river’s waterfront (listening, at that point, to the football post-game show), and to another metro station.  I headed back into the heart of the city. I strolled along city streets, looking for the old Seoul City Wall, but I never found it. Short on time, I was content to just enjoy feeling lost in a foreign city until I had to run back to my hotel to check-out.

After picking up my bags and checking-out, I took the metro to Seoul’s “Time Square,” a place on the map I assumed to be like New York’s Time Square. Their Square, it turned out, was just a gigantic luxury shopping mall.  And I mean gigantic! When I travel, I really enjoy seeing what the locals see, and doing what the locals do, so I was perfectly happy exploring a shopping mall and people-watching. After an hour or so of doing that, and after a delightful meal of noodles for lunch, I hopped onboard another metro train heading in the direction of the airport, although indirectly. I wanted to see as much of the city as possible before leaving, and a metro ride (hopefully above-ground) seemed to be the best way to do that. The train sped past enormous apartment blocks, each numbered with bold numbers 3 or 4 stories tall. I caught fleeting glimpses of Korean Sunday morning life as I flew past back alleys and thoroughfares. The train ride lasted about 1 ½ hours, and I eventually arrived back at Incheon airport.

My brief trip to Korea had come to an end.  I sat in the airport, first stunned that I was in Korea, and second grateful that I had been able to see and do so much over the past 6 days. Anyone that knows me knows that I am a planner, and many believe me to be less than spontaneous. This trip, however, taught me a lot about spontaneity and the joys of just “going with it.”  

As I’ve recounted this story to people over the last week, many people have apologized that I did not make it back to Pohnpei.  Yes, I was disappointed. I told myself that I would roll with the punches and accept whatever travel problems may arise, but it was very difficult to get so close and not make it. Part of me, however, is actually happy that I did not get back to Pohnpei or Palau. To be clear, I WANT to go back, but my short time on Guam brought some sobering realizations. Though it’s hard to comprehend, life goes on without you. The images and memories I had of Guam had remained unchanged over the past 4 ½ years, but Guam did not. The people I once knew were gone, and the new folks I met enjoyed lives completely unaware of the time I spent on the island. I know that sounds incredibly self-centered, but it’s a feeling I’m struggling to express. I don’t know who said it, but I’ve heard it said that you can never return to the same places you once lived. Life goes on, and that can be hard to see. I was afraid that returning to Pohnpei 5 years later would be a shock, and it likely still will be, but that shock will have to wait. Instead of returning to an old home and old friends, I was blessed to explore a new world and meet new friends. This trip may not have turned out as expected, but it turned out to be just as excellent.